Sylvester stopped and looked at the undead bird with interest. He had seen undead animals before, but this was the first time seeing a bird.
"Did Bishop Lazark send you?" He asked and quickly caught it in his palm.
The bird was like a zombie, with a rotting body and deadly red eyes. Yet it made no noise the whole time and calmly remained in Sylvester's grasp without even wriggling.
"A missive?" He noticed a small piece of rolled paper tied to the bird's claws.
He quickly untied it and read in a low breath so Miraj could hear it too. "The North calls, for the trouble brews. Will you respond or let your allies lose? Time is of the essence, react, or see them fade into obsolescence."
"What? Why did Bishop Lazark write th… He didn't write it!"
